 Chapter 132 of Barney the Vampire, Volume 3 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Barney the Vampire, Volume 3 by Thomas Prescott-Prest, Chapter 132 The Explanation and the Proposal at Tettetet A week or more had passed away since the visit of the attorney to Mrs. Meredith, and yet the latter saw not a sufficient reason why she should send for her friend. Things were not ripe yet. The Colonel had, it was true, been melting gradually, but then to progress ever so little was a great point in anything, no matter what it is, something gained. Mrs. Meredith, however, by no means lost sight of her object. She had that steadily in view and worked for it every day, and her daughter was no less assiduous. She was attentive and humble, waited upon Colonel Deverell with the affectionate assuidity of a daughter, while on his part he sighed and said what a happy man he must be who should have her for a wife. It was arranged one day, when he appeared to be more than usually tender, that the mother should be out that evening and see some of her friends and break the news a little to some of them, a pardonable vanity in the lady, for it was not in accordance with her position in society that her daughter could expect such an offer as the one she daily expected. The lady did as she had agreed and left the house, while Margaret went to the Colonel's sitting-room when his bell rang and hoped he'd excuse the absence of her mother as she had gone out to see some friends whom she had not seen for some time. I am happy in having you attend to me, Miss Margaret. I cannot be attended to better. I am afraid, as it is, I am a terrible annoyance to you. Annoyance, Colonel, far from it, very far from it, and I do hope you do not mean what you say, else I shall fear I have unwillingly given you some cause for your opinion, which I shall the more regret, as you are yourself so kind. I assure you it gives me great pleasure when I know I can do ought to alleviate the misfortunes or satisfy the wishes of any of my friends. And do you reckon me one, Miss Margaret? I hope Colonel Deverell will not consider me too presumptuous in looking upon him as something more than a mere casual friend or acquaintance. Casual acquaintance, Miss Margaret, casual acquaintance. Well, friendship, if you allow me to say so. Friendship, repeated the Colonel with a deep drawn sigh. I would I could claim a yet warmer title than a friend. I could then hope for some of those pleasures which are denied a solitary man like me. I should then have those whom I loved to soothe my deathbed and whom I could benefit by worldly wealth. Could I, Margaret, think I could claim a feeling stronger than that of friendship? Oh, Colonel Deverell, how can you talk in this strain? Indeed you, you are too good. Dear me, I do not know what I was about to say. Miss Meredith, said the Colonel, taking her hand with gentleness and tenderly pressing it, I am seen to a great disadvantage. I have been many years fighting for my country, and I have not had time to cultivate those sweet and tender emotions such as I feel at this moment. Yes, you must have suffered much, said Margaret. And now, when I return again, I am somewhat the worse in appearance, but my heart is as warm as ever it was, and I am more than ever alive to the charm of female society. It is that unreserved interchange of thought and good offices which attaches me to life and makes me live even with hope. Do not dispel this daydream of mine, Margaret. The Colonel paused and pressed her hand to his lips, while she appeared confused and irresolute, and was unable to withdraw her hand from his, but at length she sank trembling into a chair. My charming creature, may I suppose this emotion is caused by excessive feeling, that, that, in short, I am not wholly indifferent to you? Oh, Colonel, I am really unable to speak. My beloved girl, I am loved. Yes, I see it. Oh, happiness! Amidst these broken sentences, the Colonel contrived to slip his hand round the young lady's waist, and he pressed her close to him. For a moment she forgot his proximity and remained passive. But suddenly, in quietly disengaging herself, she said, pardon me, Colonel Deverell. I had forgotten. I was unconscious. A weakness came over me, and you love me. If you have become acquainted with that which was a secret, sir, you must use it as such. But you must not talk in the strain to me. Promise me, Colonel, and, and I will see about the tea immediately. May I speak to your mother? Colonel Deverell can do as he pleases. I have no secrets from my dear mama. I will, I will, and heaven bless you for saying so much. I may say you are not averse to me, and that with her consent I shall not despair. We will say no more, Colonel Deverell, said the cautious maiden. You shall command me. You are the arbitress of my fate, said the Colonel, who had become warmer and eulogistic to a degree. Much more, however, passed between them. The ice was broken, and they conversed more freely, for when they began the tea much was said that did not partake of so warm a character as that which had already passed. But it nevertheless partook of the same purpose. When I am married, said the Colonel, I should like a carriage. I have no use for one now, as I could but very seldom ride. But when I had a wife, then I should wish for her accommodation as well as my own. But which do you prefer, country or town life? There is much of comfort and quiet in a country life, said Margaret, and yet I am not entirely wedded to country life. There is much of pleasure in London. So there is, and where you have no resources of your own or in your own house, it is preferable. But when such is the case, London loses all its charms or a great part of them. So it does, said Margaret. However, I am partial to both. I should like a partial town and country life. That indeed would be the very greatest delight one could experience, to live sometimes in one place and sometimes in another. So it would. By the way, if we kept a carriage, which I would do, said the Colonel, after a pause, it would be a very excellent thing to enable us to travel about in. Perhaps you have been to some parts and like them better than others. Yes, I have been to a good many parts, but I cannot at this moment speak of them, but we would look out for some place that would be more agreeable than others. Perhaps you have some place of your own you would like to live in? No, not exactly. These things are not of one's own choice and not empty, and therefore are useless as residences. Certainly, besides, you must be near enough to come to town for business purposes. Yes, I must, but that needn't be often, replied the Colonel. But where there is plenty of means, there is no fear of not getting what we want. No indeed there is not. And one thing alone would repay me for the hardships I have endured, the misery I have suffered, and the misfortunes I have experienced in all my marchings and counter-marchings, my sleeping in the open air by night, and scorched by the sun by day. And what may that be, Colonel? Why, the power it gives me of conferring happiness and wealth upon you, for in the natural course of events you will outlive me. Oh, for mercy's sake, don't talk of that, sir. But it is a matter that I can think of calmly enough, and as a soldier I have ample occasion I can assure you. Indeed, I dare say you must have. I can remember on one occasion especially, which I will relate to you, if I do not weary, said Colonel Deverell. Oh, no, no, I cannot be weary, said Margaret. Then I will tell you, I was ordered to march some troops to attack the stockade of Padithampur, a very strong place. Was it a town? No, merely a place of strength where the enemy had gathered together in great numbers, and here we were determined to attack them. The stockade was a very strong place, and there were strong and high timber fences with large mounds of earth and bags of sand, all tending to make the place one of great strength, said the Colonel. What a place it must have been! Yes, it was very strong. Well, my party did not amount to more than fifteen hundred men strong, while the enemy, with the advantages of the defense, were more than three thousand, giving them a vast superiority over us. But we were not to be daunted by that. We were determined to make a dash, and from the character of the men I commanded, I had no fear of the result. We were sure to make our way among them, and then we were sure of the result. How dreadful! Well, the men were divided into three bodies, five hundred each, and these into divisions of one hundred each, the one to support the other. We had no guns, and were therefore compelled to depend entirely upon our luck in the assault. Goodness me, I wonder how you could think of it with anything like ease or comfort. It would make me all of a freeze. Oh, Margaret, when the soldier is in the field of battle, he must get the better of all feelings, save those of honor. It is too true, said Margaret with a sigh. And then, said Colonel Deverell, we, having arranged our plans, and settled who was to take the command if I had the mischance to fall. Good heavens! Well, I say, having done all this, we were resolved to make a dash at the point, and take the place by assault. To do this, the more effectually, we were resolved to make the attempt in three different places at once, so as to divert the enemy's attention, and to place them in a crossfire, and thus take them more easily. This plan was carried out to the letter, and we made the attack, but the enemy defended their stockade so vigorously, and what with the strength of the place and the determination of the enemy, we were for some time repulsed, at least held at bay. This would never do, I thought. I must mount the breach myself, for if my division was held at bay, I had fears of the rest. They might meet repulses also, which would occasion the loss of our whole party, which would have been sure destruction. Not defeat alone, but imprisonment, and possibly death from ill usage, or from malignant disorders. What fearful scenes! I ordered my men to keep close and follow me. We made a dash at the stockade, three abreast, and up we went. By, Jove, it was fine work, a brave sight, a sight I can never forget while I have remembrance left me. We got up the stockade, heaven knows how, and were over it in the space of a minute, but the impetuosity of those who came first was not seconded by those who came after. It was easy enough to get down among the Indians, but it was very hard to get up, and while our friends were getting up, we were exposed to the strength of hundreds, only four men to as many hundreds for several minutes. Goodness! How dreadful! Were you not all killed? Except for myself, they were all killed. Each received a dozen wounds, and I should have met with the same fate, but for an Indian officer, who, seeing me surrounded and thrown down, saved my life from the fury of his men. But in a minute after, I was free. My own men came down by dozens, and the blacks were swept off by the hundred. At that moment, too, there were our other parties just appearing over the other parts of the stockade, so we had now plenty of assistance. The blacks now on all sides fell in numbers before the fire, and the place was our own, and a hearty cheer was given that made the woods re-echo again. Were you not glad the danger was over? The danger was not over, though we thought it was, for suddenly the earth heaved up with a tremendous explosion, and many of our poor fellows were blown up into the air, and I myself was completely knocked over and smothered in dirt. However, it was dry, and we were soon put to rights again. I was picked up, and nothing more happened. What was the cause of your disaster? Oh, a mine the scamps had sprung as they were retiring, hoping to do us more mischief than they did. However, we beat them off, and they lost many men on that occasion, and did not show themselves again, but made the best of their way through the woods and jungle by some paths that we did not know, and hence we did not follow them further. It must have been dreadfully dangerous. Yes, life was the game we played for, and it was won and lost often enough during that war, but we must expect it should be so. But you are now safe. Yes, I am now safe, and I may say happy. I have had some knocks, and am none the better for them bodily, but then I have had them well paid for, so I must not complain. I have now but one object to attain before I die. And what may that be, Colonel, if it be no secret? It is not to you, Miss Meredith, said the Colonel. It is an early day, a day on which I may claim you as my own. Then indeed I shall have lived and accomplished something, an object worth living for, and may I say so worth dying for. Ah, I hope you may live many years yet, Colonel, many years of life and happiness, to enjoy the fortune you have so gallantly won. Indeed, I think no fortune ought to give so much joy as the soldiers. And why, Miss Meredith? Because there is none so arduously won, one often with bloodshed and even life, it ought indeed to give great and lasting happiness. If I obtain my wishes, I shall be the happiest man in the universe, and I would go through all I have gone through over, I twice over, and that is no little, to have such a reward as the one I now seek. It is the crowning happiness of my life. You are very kind to say all this. I, but I mean it. It is no common compliment, said the Colonel. I mean what I say most earnestly. Do you believe what I say? I am not used to the pretty speeches of young men who make love. Perhaps I ought, but I am an old soldier, and am but little used to these ways. However, I have spoken my mind, and I hope you will not allow anyone else to injure my cause. Anything you have said, Colonel Deverell, has been of too serious a nature for me to think of anything save the object itself. Your conduct has been that of a gentleman, and I should be wanting in respect to myself and courtesy to you to think otherwise than seriously of it, was the wily reply of Margaret. You have my own thoughts, said the Colonel. There is my ma, said Margaret, as the knocker and bell sounded. You will do your utmost with Mrs. Meredith for me, and I will beseech her myself, said the Colonel. I hope she will take things in a favorable light. End of Chapter 132, Recording by Tricia G. Chapter 133 of Barney the Vampire Vol. 3 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Barney the Vampire Vol. 3 by Thomas Prescott-Prest. Chapter 133 Mrs. Meredith's consultation with Mr. Twistle and her resolve Mrs. Meredith's arrival was very opportune, for it broke off the interview, and Margaret descended to the parlor, where her mother she knew would repair the moment she had freed herself from her dress. Margaret was now left alone for a few moments. She felt all the exultation of success in a strategy, and all the exhilaration of spirits that such a prospect of wealth enriches floating before her eyes, and all the natural consequence upon such possessions would give rise to. I shall be rich, she thought. I shall not only be rich, but very rich. I know I shall. Well, he is old. No matter. Better be an old man's darling than a young man's slave. Yes, I shall know how to use wealth. I shall be able to spend a little of his countless hordes, and he will not thwart me, I am sure. He will be too fond, too doting by far. I shall be indulged like a spoiled child, I am sure. Margaret smiled at the thought of what length the Colonel might not be induced to carry his fondness for her. He will not set any value upon what will give me pleasure. I am sure he will give me all I ask. I have but to ask him for what I want, and he must comply. I am sure he is too easy, too quiet and generous to make a moment's hesitation. The Colonel, too, was left to his reflections, but as to what they were we know not. He sat long, silently gazing at the fire. Mrs. Meredith now entered the apartment, and, looking at her daughter, she said, Hey, something's been said, Margaret. I can see by your eye that the Colonel has said something to you. Am I not right, my dear? Yes, ma, you are right. Well, my love, what did he say? I am dying with curiosity. It will be quite impossible to do that, but he has been quite explicit enough without any hesitation at all or any reserve, quite candid and open. He has offered? Yes, he wishes for your consent, for I told him I could not possibly decide without your consent and countenance. He did not disapprove of that, only he wished to propitiate you in his favor and begged me to let him have the satisfaction of knowing that he had my good wishes and that I could look upon him in a warmer light than a mere friend. Which I hope you did? Yes, ma, I let him imagine that I was not indifferent to his good opinion, but at the same time I would not commit myself, but left him to infer a good deal. I think I know, ma, how to manage such an affair well. I may say very well. Exactly, my love, I was sure you would. Yes, ma, I should think I did, for when I found he had proceeded a certain distance, I was resolved that he should speak out plump at once, and when I found he paused, I paused too, and he was compelled to explain, but he betrayed no unwillingness for anything like hesitation at all, but he has fairly proposed himself to me. And you have not committed yourself? Not in the least. Very well, I must be cautious, too, not to do so, because I must have some conversation with Mr. Twistle so that we may proceed in a safe manner and not commit ourselves in any way as we shall repent of afterwards. How do you mean? Why, child, you would not marry the Colonel if he was not a rich man. Not exactly, though I must admit, ma, he is a very nice man, a very nice man, and I should be entitled to a widow's pension if nothing more, and that I might not have under some circumstances. Even you yourself have been left worse off, you see. Yes, my child, but circumstances alter cases. I had a better prospect when I first married, else I would not have done so, you may depend upon it. However, we can always retrace our steps, and he cannot, but I will get Mr. Twistle to come and see into matters a bit for us. Well, ma, you shall do as you think fit, only take care not to throw away a good chance because you have greater hopes. Has he said anything about his property? Not a word except to intimate it was large, and he had won it very hardly, with great danger. But he did not say what it consisted of, of course I could not ask. Oh, dear, no! But he intimated he would keep a carriage and a country house as well as a townhouse beside several other matters, which makes it plain enough he has been used to plenty. Besides, as he spoke to me in describing some scenes in India, he appeared so much animated that I am sure he must be what he appears to be and what he says he is. Ah, well, I think myself it is all quite right, and that we shall have nothing to repent here, but we will let all go on but the naming of the day. That must not be named, for if we do, we shall not be able to retract. Oh, no, we shall not have any occasion to do that, I think, but I dare say he will speak to you tonight if there is time at supper especially. No doubt. You may as well retire early so that you may be absent, and that will give us greater liberty to talk than if you were present, my dear. I wish Mr. Twistle were here, but it can't be helped, and when he does come I must have some conversation with him, and I must in the meantime learn what I can for him to inquire about afterwards. Thus resolved Margaret went to bed early, leaving her mother to attend upon the Colonel, who sat looking at the fire without any change of posture since the last time he was seen by the girl, but Mrs. Meredith caused him to break the steady gaze and deep thought he was indulging in. I hope you have been quite well, Colonel, since I left. Yes, quite well, Mrs. Meredith. What would you choose for supper? Margaret. Eh? said Mrs. Meredith, amazed. I beg your pardon, I did not know you were near. At least I did not know I spoke at the moment. But pray, what did you desire to know? What you would have for supper, sir? Oh, whatever you have at hand, some of what we had for dinner. I think I should like it as soon as you feel disposed to have it. I am ready, quite ready. Then it shall be had at once, sir, said Mrs. Meredith. I will order it up immediately, for it is later than I intended to have stopped out, but the hours so soon ran away and there were so many motives to forget the time that was flying so fast. The supper was soon laid, and the Colonel and Mrs. Meredith alone sat down to it at his earnest request. Indeed they used to have meals much in common, for the Colonel professed to be very fond of female company and was desirous of their company, which they translated into a desire for the presence of Margaret herself. The supper was laid and over before the Colonel said anything, but appeared to be absorbed in deep thought, from which it was difficult to arouse himself. At length, after looking around once or twice and not seeing Margaret at table, he said to Mrs. Meredith, I hope I have not driven your daughter away. Oh, no, sir, she complains of headache and has gone to bed somewhat earlier than usual. I fear I must play the blame on myself. She did not say you were the cause, replied Mrs. Meredith, of her ailment, and therefore I think you must be free from blame, for she would have said so if it had so happened. She generally speaks the truth in such matters at least, and I believe in every other. No doubt, but I have been speaking upon a subject that concerns my own happiness to her, and perhaps the excitement may have caused her some evil of that sort. She would not perhaps name it to you, Mrs. Meredith, but I will. You have been a wife yourself and know that a few candid words are better and more to the purpose than a long, desultory courtship. Yes, sir, it certainly is so. There is some difference, too, in our ages, said the Colonel. I have not overlooked that matter at all events, but I hope that will be of no cause of impediment or objection. It cannot be, sir, in such a case as your own, for instance. Well, then, I have proposed for her husband. I wish to make her my wife. I am yet Hale and Hardy, and have some few years yet which I could wish to pass in happiness and which I will use to make her happy. And if I die early, I have ample means of providing for her, of leaving her a most handsome and ample fortune. Not more than she deserves, but probably more than she might have thought of seeking. Certainly, sir. Then I wish for your consent to our future happiness. You may have my good wishes, said Mrs. Meredith. You are very good, said the Colonel, and I trust your daughter will live long to make you happy by making her own apparent to you. Of course, said Mrs. Meredith, it is rather a sudden affair. You will not think of hurrying it to a conclusion, but permit her to become acquainted with you and to know her own mind. Certainly, I do wish it pushed on to a conclusion, but not so much so as to cause any dissatisfaction. I am anxious to call her wife. My feelings are those of an ardent lover. I do not dispute it. Still, you and she must be the best judges of all this. You will not, I hope, punish me by compelling me to a longer probation than you are compelled to put me to. I am not like a young man who has a fortune, or rather a living to earn. But I have one ready, a handsome one, and my wife will be a lady of fortune when I die. Do not think of dying at such a moment, sir. Why, it is not desirable, said the Colonel, who did not deem it necessary to carry the conversation on any further that night, thinking possibly enough had been said for the first occasion of revealing his passion, and he, no doubt, considered his success signal. The dinner then passed off in the usual style, and Mrs. Meredith left the Colonel and wished him good night, with feeling somewhat akin to triumph, and returned to her own daughter's room there to cogitate and sleep upon what had that evening taken place. The next day she determined to send to Mr. Twistle and arrange the meeting she desired, and at the same time she resolved that she would not push matters to the extremity of making a point of knowing what his property were, for she might lose all. She was convinced that the Colonel must be a man of large property, how could such a man live if he were not. It was a speculation she could not help indulging in. She knew that a man in Colonel Deverell's line of life was quite able to support himself. Besides, the jewels he had about him were worth a large sum of money. Putting all things together, she considered it was not worthwhile to lose so good, so excellent an opportunity, as the present for making a brilliant, at least an excellent settlement for her daughter and a home for herself. There can be no fear, she muttered. There can be no fear, her widow's pension will be a better support to her than the livelihood of some. Mr. Twistle was sent for, and the papers she desired to find for him, she was fortunate enough to discover, and laid them by at once. The attorney came willingly enough and was well pleased when he was informed of the success of the search after the papers and produced the bond by which she agreed to give him one hundred pounds for his assistance in the marriage affair. However, he did not seem to agree with her that she should not be over particular about the Colonel's property. He thought that there must be some inquiries made respecting it to ascertain if there were any or none. But, suggested Mrs. Meredith, the Colonel is a kind but a proud man, and he would probably take great and deep offense at any inquiry being made into his pecuniary affairs. Hardly, my dear madame, don't you see, love would be strong enough to counterbalance that. He would make some allowance for paternal anxiety and love. There is much reason in all that, yet I have heard so much of these Nabobs that one is afraid to lose a good chance by inadvertently touching their weak points. For the kind of society and company they have, theirs is so indifferent to what they find here. Yes, that is very true, but we should like to know that it is true. What service has he been in? I think, though, you said in the East India Service? Yes. Well, then, I will make some inquiries at the house. They will answer my inquiries, and no one will even be the wiser for it. They will, at least, tell me if there is such a person in the service, and perhaps I can learn something more. Very well, that may be done. Will you come round with me to tea this evening as I will contrive to bring you in the presence of Colonel Deverell, whom you will then see and converse with? I am not sure of it, but I will try to do so. I will be here, said the Attorney, and in the meantime I will make the necessary inquiries. They parted upon this mutual good understanding, and the Attorney, in high spirits, for the papers were of great value to him, and the promised reward was his stimulus to a greater exertion on behalf of Mrs. Meredith and her daughter, for he thought he could do business for the Colonel after this affair was settled. Such an opportunity of increasing his connection did not offer every day. Mrs. Meredith redoubled her assuidity about the person of Colonel Deverell, and at the same time lost no opportunity of putting her daughter forward, nor was that daughter a bit disinclined to take such opportunity as was offered her of making the most of herself on this occasion to appear amiable and in some new and languishing position, or to perform some new service for the Colonel. CHAPTER 134 THE INTERDUCTION THE ATTORNEY'S FIRST FEELER When the Attorney had left the house he proceeded upon some business of his own, and then he proceeded to the India house for the purpose of making inquiries after the Colonel for his friend Mrs. Meredith. In the course of the day he did go to the India house, and upon making some inquiries he was sent to a particular department of the house where he saw two gentlemen. Praise, sir, said one, what do you want? I wish to make some inquiries concerning a Colonel Deverell who was employed or was serving in the Honourable East India Service. In what part was he serving? In India, said the Attorney. But to what presidency did he belong? That I do not even know. He has been many years away from England, I understand, and some of his friends have not heard from him for many years, and they were desirous of finding out whether he is dead or alive, and if so, where he is. There is a Colonel Deverell returned this year from India. Indeed, do you know anything of him? Nothing more than he has retired from the service on his half-pay some time before he came home on account of his wounds. Is he rich? I can answer no such question. I am a solicitor and do not ask the question from an improper motive. You may not, sir, but we cannot answer such a question. We have no inquisitorial knowledge of the private circumstances of these gentlemen who have served in the company's army. But you put it to your own sagacity to consider how far it would be probable for a man so placed as regards rank and opportunity in India without making money. I see, certainly, he must. And yet you know there are means of getting rid of money. To be sure, I see. Not that I have any idea that such can be the case. Indeed, I should be disposed to believe the contrary. Seeing the Colonel must have been wounded long since, for the last engagement must have been some few years since. Thank you. I will report what I have learned. Do you not know where he can be found at this time? No, indeed. We have no information. This being all he could learn, he left the India House, and as it was now about time to return to Mrs. Meredith, he at once went back, and having seen all his business transacted, he had now leisure to go there, and in a short time he arrived, and at once related to her all that he had heard respecting the Colonel, from the first to the last word of it. Well, said Mrs. Meredith, that at all events is very satisfactory. Yes, it is something, said the Attorney, to know your man, but as the clerk said, he might have spent it, that is to say, dissipated it. Oh, it's impossible. He's been an invalid a long while now. Ah, there's no knowing what might be done in these cases. Who knows what he may have done, gambled and diced it away, and entered into extravagant speculations, which may have turned out ruinous bubbles. Well, well, Mr. Twistle, we won't say much about what might be, said Mrs. Meredith. We don't care about them, but I am very much obliged to you for this trouble. It is, however, a very satisfactory thing to know he is what he represented himself to be. Yes, that is a very great point gained. His veracity, having been found unimpeachable in one point, may be presumed to be so in another, said Margaret. It appeared to me to be extremely probable, if not quite certain, he is what he appears to be. I am glad that all is so far good. Be that as it may, it will be more satisfactory to know what his property really consists of, and how much there is about it. No doubt, but it would not be worthwhile to risk anything on that account. He might imagine we were mercenary, and that would disgust him altogether. That is what I am fearful of, said the mother. We may not yet have occasion to ask him any question, or to make any inquiries of him at all, for we may be able to worm it all out of him. That is true, said Mrs. Meredith. Dear me, there is the bell. Go, Margaret, and say we have an old friend come to tea. Perhaps he will excuse you. He may give the invitation we desire. Margaret at once departed, and proceeded to the Colonel's room, and began to wait upon him as usual. But he saw there was but one cup placed. Are you not going to take tea with me, Margaret?" he said. Am I to be a prisoner, and put in solitary confinement for the evening? Why, Colonel, Mr. Twistle has called to take tea with my mother, and he was a very old in particular acquaintance of my father's. I do not like to put a slight upon him. He is a gentleman, I presume? Oh, yes, Colonel, he is a member of the profession of the law. Oh, well, will you ask him to tea with me? As we shall be both united, I hope your friends will soon be mine. There can be no great objection to our acquaintance beginning earlier. I am not fond of being entirely alone. If we shall not be intruding upon you, sir, said Margaret, I dare say my mother will. I will tell her of your kindness immediately. In a few moments Margaret returned to her mother and the attorney, to whom she related the invitation she had received from the Colonel, and instantly clutched at the idea of going to the Colonel to tea, the thing of all others she most desired to do, and at the same time she had calculated upon it, for the Colonel appeared to be wholly dependent upon them for society, which he appeared to be passionately fond of there, especially Margaret. That is just fortunate. Now, Mr. Twistle, said Mrs. Meredith, You will be cautious and do not make any open attempt to discover what may be the peculiar species of property he holds. It may do much mischief, you know. I am at your mercy, said the lawyer. If you say so, I will not make any attempt, though I must tell you, Mrs. Meredith, that you will be to blame if you allow your daughter to marry without some inquiry being made, and if he mean well, he will take no offense. You may do what you can without broaching the subject to him, still I think we have heard enough to set all doubts at rest. I am a professional man, my dear madame, and I know what the world is, and have had much experience in these matters. However, as I think there is much probability in all he says, why, you shall see, I will not do anything that will offend the nicest delicacy. That will be all we want, Mr. Twistle, and now come upstairs. Mr. Twistle, Colonel Deverell, Colonel Deverell, Mr. Twistle, an old and dear friend of my late husband, sir, who has called to visit us. I am very happy to see the gentleman, said the Colonel, but with the air of a man who is conscious of his own superiority and that he is committing a condescending act. Will you please to be seated? Excuse my rising, sir. I am an invalid and am lame, but you are welcome. I am much obliged, returned the attorney, bowing. My good friend Mrs. Meredith has made me intrude upon you, else I had not done so. You are welcome, sir, again repeated Colonel Deverell. Pray be seated. I have seen but little company, and am glad now and then to converse with any one. Will you oblige me, Mrs. Meredith, with making tea for us? Your services are really invaluable. Ah, Colonel, you are really too good. Not at all. I am afraid I am too much in the rear of the march of courtesy since I left England, as our habits and manners in the East are very different to what they are here. Ah, I daresay they live in a style of regal magnificence and splendor, said the attorney. Yes, more so than you may at first imagine, and more so than an appearance, so much so that it is difficult for the law at all times to take its course. It becomes a mere dead letter, and the matter usually ends in some indignity being offered to its servants. Indeed, sir, that was dangerous. Not at all. It was an attorney who, having deputed someone to serve a process, and finding that he could not, imagined that it was the fault of the process-server, and he determined to make the attempt himself, being well assured that he could succeed. He found himself mistaken, for, after several disasters, that he was led into purposely, he was well pumped upon by some slaves, and thought himself lucky in escaping with life. That would never have been permitted here, said the attorney. No, possibly not, but there are not the distinctions between classes here that there are there, and things are not on the same scale, either living or attendance. And yet, people who have passed their lives there come to this country at last, they do not like it well enough to remain there. They come back to the land of their birth, where none of these things exist to fascinate them. Yes, they many live and die there very many, but at the same time, those who do return do so because it is the land of their birth, because they love the country, and because they go there merely to make fortunes to come here and spend them. They do not like the kind of investments perhaps? They usually do so, and it fetches a high price, a very high price, and is considered equal to the stocks of the Bank of England. That is first rate stock, and on dividend days, the place is usually surrounded with strangers who come to town for the purpose of receiving their incomes. Indeed, it is quite an interesting sight to strangers. Have you ever witnessed it? It is well worth the while to go and see it. I never trouble myself anything about it," said the Colonel, but I must be going there by the way tomorrow. I must have a coach. Do you know the routine of the banking business? It is confusing to one not used to it. I know enough for my own purpose. Didn't you find London much altered, inquired Margaret, anxious to give a turn to the conversation, as she thought the attorney's conversation would appear as if it were much too pointed? When you first returned to England and came to live here again? I cannot say much about that, said the Colonel, because I was not in a condition to twist about like many men. I am lame. Exactly. That must have deprived you of much of the pleasure one feels in surveying old places and well-remembered spots. It was, replied the Colonel, but in a place like London, alterations and additions are not so extensive as to cause any alteration in general features, so as to make it perceivable at once. It is only when you come to examine localities that you notice it. You improve and alter parts, but the town is the same, and there is no doubt this appears the work of steady growth in not any one of sudden effort. Indeed, the very additions to it have a character which stamp it as being London. There is much truth about that, said the Attorney. It is the same all over the world, and only in those places where the extent is but small than any great alteration makes a conspicuous and general change and gives a new character to the place. As this conversation passed between them, the Attorney making one or two delicate allusions to property and asking his advice respecting some purchases he wished to make. To all which the Colonel made but short and direct answers and of such character that it was difficult to carry the conversation upon that topic at least, and both mother and daughter looked besiegingly at him so that he was compelled to resist and found himself completely baffled by what appeared the Colonel's pride. Well, Mrs. Meredith, said Mr. Twistle, I have done my utmost with this Colonel Deverell and I can make nothing of him, nothing at all, I assure you. You cannot form a bad opinion of him? No, no, he is at one moment one of the most agreeable men to converse with, and the next moment he is frigid and severe, perhaps pain or perhaps contempt for anyone else may induce the alteration in his manner and no allusion to himself does he make. Don't you think he is quite the gentleman and a man used to good society? Yes, I cannot doubt. He has the air of all that he says, but he is going to the bank tomorrow. Now I wonder if it is to receive dividends. I dare say it is, said Mrs. Meredith. I have very little doubt of that and yet I should very much like to know. It would settle one's mind, not that I would run any risk about the matter. I would not have him offended for the world. It would be willfully destroying a chance that is so good that we can never expect it to again occur, therefore we must not lose it. Certainly not. I will undertake the matter myself, said the Attorney, so that there shall not be any risk in a miscarriage whatever. I shall take care that nothing shall be done that will be at all likely to reach his ears or that will be displeasing to him. We will trust your prudence, Mr. Twistle. You may do so safely and depend upon my caution in this matter. Now I will be at hand in the morning. If I am not here before he goes out, send for me and let me know the hour. If there is not time to reach here, send me the number of the coach. I will post off to the bank and there await until I see him come there. I will send to you then, said Mrs. Meredith. I think that a very good plan. But what will it do for you if you do see him enter the bank? That will tell you nothing and I cannot see the utility of it, said Margaret. Many people go into the Bank of England who do not go there to receive any money for themselves, so that would be inconclusive. It would, said the Attorney, but you must remember I can enter too and ascertain to what portion of the building he goes and I can learn how much he received, if any. But I must bid you good-bye for the present. Do not forget to send to me at the first flush of the affair and then much subsequent trouble may be saved. Varni the Vampire Volume 3 by Thomas Prescott Prest Chapter 135 Mr. Twistle's Misadventures The Consequences of Being Found in the Bank Without Giving a Satisfactory Account of Your Business There An Unpleasant Dilemma The peculiar position of Mrs. Meredith and her daughter Margaret in some measure and to some degree tied their hands and caused a corresponding desire to know more than must hold them. At the same time they were fearful of giving any offense to their new and wealthy lodger. They were both avaricious and designing. To make a good settlement was the grand object of their lives and to that object they would sacrifice themselves. At least sacrifice Margaret, who, by the by, would consider it no sacrifice at all but a great stroke of good luck. However, they could do nothing of themselves. They saw there was a great and glorious chance for the future. They felt they had entangled the Colonel. They felt he had become a victim to their snares and they were unwilling that they should run any risk of a failure of their plans. If we offend him he may consider us avaricious and designing, they argued, and that might prove too strong an antidote to even an old man's love and the prize might be snatched out of our hands and we might not only lose a rich husband but a good lodger also. These considerations induced them to act more warily and cautious than the attorney, Mr. Twistle, who was anxious at once to seize the bull by the horns and come to an explanation and thus save himself much labor and time. For the sooner there was an explanation the better and he did not apprehend the result that they did. He believed it would only appear proper caution on the part of a mother. They had different opinions and between the two there was an indecisive policy adopted which occasioned delay and uncertainty. There was no doubt but the Colonel meant matrimony, his infirmities were of no consequence. It was not the man but the money that was wanted in which was sought with perseverance and constancy. They appeared negligent of money matters before the Colonel and when he paid them which he did regularly he always appeared to have money about him which of course increased their respect and gave them increased confidence in him. It is all very well, Ma said Margaret, but Mr. Twistle must not offend Colonel Deverell. He is evidently a man much above him. His actions and manner are such that at once stamp him immeasurably his superior. Now as regards this property there can be no doubt but he must have enough. I think so too, my dear, but it would be a dreadful thing if it should turn out otherwise in the end. It would really be very dreadful. I should never survive it, nor I, mother. What is to be done? I declare I am at my wit's end. There is no fear, Ma. Do you not remember that Mr. Twistle himself has found out that he is Colonel Deverell and that he has retired from the army of the company? Indeed, my dear, that is correct. I had forgotten that, quite forgotten it, but it may so happen he has no money at all. He may have spent it. He does not appear to be extravagant, said Margaret. He has retired upon his half-pay, which you know must be a very good living, and I am sure of a widow's pension if nothing more, and besides I am sure, from what he has said, there must be money. Well, I think so too, my dear, said Mrs. Meredith, and I think it will be better that things should go on as the Colonel desires. To lose him would be horribly aggravating. So it will, Ma, because I am sure he will do justice. It is not like as if we had money too, and were as willing to have our fares investigated as we are to investigate his. That is very true, my dear, very true, and Mr. Twistle does not seem to know that. That I will tell him when I see him. By the way, I must send to him to tell him the Colonel is going out in about an hour. If he can find out anything without compromising us in the affair, why he may do so, and welcome, for you must acknowledge, it will be all the more satisfactory. Yes, yes, I admit that, but I would not willfully lose a good opportunity. I must now send off to him. Mary must go, and that too, as quickly as she can, for I shall want her back again very soon, so she must run. Then the sooner she goes, the better, said Margaret. Mary was sent to Mr. Twistle, who happened to be at home at the time, and judging that Mary had been a good time on the road, that there would be no time to go to Mrs. Meredith's house, then follow the coach, determined to go to the bank at once, so that he would be there in time to see the Colonel descend and enter the bank, into which he would follow him. He sent word back to Mrs. Meredith that he would go on, and see her as soon as he could, and then he made the best of his way towards the bank, where he arrived in good time, indeed, half an hour before the Colonel, who did not set out so soon as he intended. Now, thought Twistle, if he were to turn out all right, why, I shall be in good fortune, but if bad it would be laid upon my shoulders. They shall not say that I have not given them attention enough for their money, and if I don't do something, they will say I haven't earned my money, and though I can enforce payment of the bond, yet it may hurt my future prospects with regard to my future connection with the family, which I hope to make a profitable one in the long run. Filled with these thoughts, he determined to watch with due caution for the arrival of the Colonel on the other side of the way. It was some long time before the coach drove up, which it did after a considerable lapse of time, and then Mr. Twistle crossed over and placed himself in a position by the lamppost, where he should obtain a good view of anyone passing in and out of the coach. To his he, he muttered as he saw the Colonel step out of the carriage and walk into the bank very leisurely and quietly, leaning upon his stick and walking lane. He watched him into the bank. Some distance down the passage, and then he muttered, Now I will follow him up closely. And after a moment's pause to permit someone to pass him, he then darted down the passage into a kind of yard. But no, he could not see him, he was not there. And yet he was so lame, he could not have got out of sight so soon as all that. He's gone to the dividend office, he muttered. I shall find him there. And away he posted to that department, but he could not find him. He was not there. Then what could have become of him? That was a point he could not solve. Well, this is very odd, he muttered, very odd. He paused to think over the matter, but that did not aid him. He was in the dark, but thought it was no use in waiting in any one place, so wandered about from office to office until he came to the body of the place, when he waited until someone came up to him and touched him on the shoulder. He turned around, and at once perceived it was an officer. What do you want with me? inquired Twistle. What is your business here? returned the officer by way of reply. I am here upon my own business. I am at a loss to understand what you mean by asking me such a question in a public place. What can you mean by it? I was never asked such a question before and cannot see why you should do so now. Excuse me, sir, I have ample warrant for what I am doing. Have you then stated? Easily, I have followed you about this last half hour and you have been wandering about the place for some time and looking about you in a manner that has excited a good deal of suspicion to say the least of it, and I must have some satisfactory explanation. You can have that, replied Mr. Twistle, very much annoyed. You can have any explanation you require. I am very sure I came here on my own affairs. What other explanation can you require? Your affairs may be ours also and the explanation you have given will be just enough to justify my taking you into custody. So, if you have no more to say, I must request the favour of your company. That's my card of invitation. Do you hear, sir? Yes, I do. I am an attorney at law and you may depend upon it I will not be content without punishing you for this indignity. I came in here because I saw a friend call to whom I wanted to speak. Where is he? I don't know, said Twistle. I have missed him. Very likely, and your friend will miss you for a short time, for you must come with me. You have been found here without being able to give any account of yourself. I tell you I came in here to see Colonel Deverell. Well, what do we know of Colonel Deverell? We don't know anything about him nor you either. You must come with me. We are obligated to be very particular when we see strangers walking about with no object whatever in view. That's suspicious. But I tell you I am a respectable attorney, a professional man. I had no bad object in view. That may be as you say, but you must come with me. Seeing there no help for it, Mr. Twistle resigned himself into the officer's hands and followed him to the station house where he was examined by the Inspector at the place where he was taken. Well, sir, said the Inspector, this may be all very true, but we must have some proof of what you assert. Then we can let you go. I'll have a complaint against you. You may, but you must prove not only that what you say is true but that there was no cause for suspicion and that you were not loitering about the bank as the officer asserts you were. The attorney thought it would be quite unnecessary to get into the public prints because it would not do for him to make use of Colonel Deverell's name and that he had already done. What was he to do? He had got into a very disagreeable scrape and he must now get in the best manner possible in which he could not see his way clear to do. What do you want me to do? Give us some proof that you are the person whom you represent yourself to be," he replied, and then we can let you go at once. Then I will give you my card, said Twistle, producing his card case. That is no proof, said the Constable. A man might have robbed you of your card case and you would have someone passing himself off for yourself. What shall I do then, inquired Twistle? Send for someone who knows you or send for your own clerk. That will do. That I can do at once," replied Twistle, and he at once wrote a note to his clerk and gave it unsealed into the hands of the Constable and asked if there was anyone who would go with it. You can send a messenger. There are many who will do that if you pay them for it, replied the Constable, and in another minute, for the sum of half a crown, a messenger agreed to take the letter to his office and deliver it to his clerk and wait for him. This was done and until that time he was locked up in a cell where he had a light, certainly, but in which he had no other comfort at all. But in about an hour and a half there was a prospect of a relief, for he saw his clerk come into the station house and with him the messenger, who came to the Constable and said that this was Mr. Twistle's clerk. Do you know Mr. Twistle? inquired the Constable. Yes, I do. He is my employer. Then point him out, said the Constable. At that moment Mr. Twistle was brought in and he at once pointed him out to the satisfaction of the Constable, who, with an admonition, consented to the enlargement of Mr. Twistle and in answer to his threat of future investigation said to him, You see, sir, the bank is such a place that we are compelled to keep all persons out who have no business there. And it must not be a place where people meet who have no particular bank business to transact. Do not wait about then for the future, sir. Else you may run the same danger. Mr. Twistle left the station house with a feeling very much akin to anger and he walked home with a very disagreeable feeling. He felt that he had been baffled and had been also much ill-used and very much affronted. Where could he have got to, he murmured. He must have turned in some of the offices, confound him. I wish he had taken it into his head to tumble. I am sure he ain't no good. If he were, I should not have been placed in such an unpleasant position. Suddenly he recollected that there was no necessity for his going home unless there had been anything happened since his departure and upon being informed that such was not the case he determined to alter his course and proceed to Mrs. Meredith and relate the misfortunes that had befallen him. And if that don't satisfy her I have her interest at heart why nothing will. And he left his clerk after giving him some directions and then turned off towards Bloomsbury Square where he arrived just before tea time. End of Chapter 135 Read by Richard Wallace, Liberty, Missouri 4 March 2010 Chapter 136 of Varney the Vampire, Volume 3 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Varney the Vampire, Volume 3 by Thomas Prescott Prest Chapter 136 An Evening with Colonel Deverell The Stratagem of Mrs. Meredith Mr. Twistle seated himself by Mrs. Meredith's fire not at all pleased with what he had anticipated and expected on that day and yet well pleased that there was an end to it but at the same time he had conceived a dislike for the Colonel of which the reader can easily guess the reason. The Colonel had received him rather hotly and he was annoyed at it and he was resolved that he would do him no service and now the indignity he had received was so vexing that he knew not on whom to wreak his anger. At all events it gave him a great dislike to the Colonel which would require a considerable time to overcome. He sat there waiting for Mrs. Meredith who was then engaged somewhere else but it was not long before she entered the apartment in which Mr. Twistle sat meditating upon his misadventure and considering in his own mind what would be the best course to pursue. Oh, Mr. Twistle, she said. I hope you have not been waiting long for me. Not long, ma'am. And how have you got on today, Mr. Twistle? Rather, indifferently indeed, said Twistle with a groan. I may say very indifferently indeed. I have had plenty of incident. I may say of adventure. I ought to say misadventure which appears to have dogged me step-by-step in this affair. Indeed, I am amazed at that, said Mrs. Meredith. You would be more so if you knew all. Tell me what has happened, Mr. Twistle, said Mrs. Meredith. I am anxious to hear what can have happened to you of this character. I hope it did not happen in consequence of your doing anything in this affair of Colonel Deverels. Indeed it did, Mrs. Meredith, said the attorney solemnly. I have been sedulously engaged in this affair and I have been seriously inconvenienced by it. I regret it very much. But you could not have helped it, Mrs. Meredith, said Twistle. You could not have helped it at all. I know that very well. Therefore there is no blame attached to you. You are free. But I have suffered nevertheless. I have suffered. Dear me, how sorry I am to be sure. Yes, ma'am, but it can't be helped. I was taken into custody as a suspicious person with difficulty in getting my release from custody. Mrs. Meredith lifted her hands and her eyes to express the amount of astonishment she felt. Yes, Mrs. Meredith, I followed the Colonel into the Bank of England and there I saw him enter. But by some wonderful means he suddenly disappeared. I missed him and could not again obtain the slightest clue to him. I did not again set eye upon him and while endeavoring to regain the track I was taken into custody for loitering about. Indeed. Then you have learned nothing about the Colonel. Nothing at all. I missed him. I saw him going into the Bank and that was all. Well, he has come back and appears to have received money. I should think that there could be no doubt as to where he got it from. It is a mystery. Indeed, I should hardly think it possible as you saw him go in. What way did he go there for but for money matters? It seems clear enough to me. I have no doubt in my own mind. Everything appears to be straightforward and plain. Indeed, muttered the attorney, there is much truth in that. I have had a straightforward intimation that I have been considered a suspicious person. I regret it very much but here is Margaret. At that moment Margaret entered the apartment in which her mother and Mr. Twistle were seated. There was an air of triumph in her eye when she entered and her mother at once divined the cause. But she said nothing and waited until Margaret spoke. Ma, she said, it is tea time and the Colonel expects you upstairs that he had any friends. He hoped you would not deprive him of your company on that account but bring them upstairs to tea. He is particularly good-humored tonight. Curse him and voluntarily exclaimed the attorney as he heard of the good humor the Colonel was in and he had so much cause to be vexed himself. Will you come with us, Mr. Twistle? I will, thank you ma'am. I am very tired, said Twistle, as he thought it would afford him some opportunity of discovering something that would enable him to be revenged and at the same time do a seeming service to the other party. At all events, he muttered, it will give me a chance of making a more intimate and useful acquaintance with him. I must do something or other and I may as well make a good thing of it as well as a bad one. That wouldn't be bad policy. Then you had better come up at once, said Margaret, for the tea is waiting. Thus urged Mrs. Meredith and Mr. Twistle followed Margaret and walked up to the drawing-room where the Colonel was, as before seated in an easy-chair, with the green shade still over one eye and his arm carried in a sling, though he did not appear to have lost the entire use of it, and by his side was a stick, a valuable Malacca cane with which he walked and his lame foot was supported by an ottoman. Well, sir, said the Colonel, I have the extreme felicity of meeting you again. Be seated. It is a very charming day, the most comfortable that I recollect into England. It is remarkably fine, said the Attorney, shrugging his shoulders and giving a suspicious glance towards the Colonel as if he thought there was a latent smile lurking upon the Colonel's countenance, but he could not detect it, and yet he felt very much aggravated. There is, even in this climate, continued the Colonel, some decent weather, but then when matters go on happily and cheerfully then the climate appears more genial and kind. Strange that it should be so, said Mr. Twistle, but I can't help thinking he looks more provoking than ever I saw in my life. As he muttered, the Colonel said, What did you say, sir? I merely said that we, who are used to it, look upon it in some other light than that of a merely negative character. That is, we look upon some of it as positively good. Nay, we are apt to call it beautiful, especially when it continues fine. Continues fine, said the Colonel. Does it really continue fine in this climate? Why, when would think, Colonel, you have never been in this country before to hear you talk, and yet you are a native of this country? Yes, I am. That is, I believe so, but I have spent so many years in Asia that I am more a native of India than this country. However, I believe what you say to be correct, but you see the slightest change of weather affects my wounds when you could not believe any change that had taken place, or at all events the change would be so slight as to cause no difference to you, and yet even before that comes, I feel the approaching change. I dare say you do, sir, but it must be unpleasant in the extreme. It certainly is, and I have found it so. Mrs. Meredith, I hope you enjoyed your walk. Did you go far? No, Colonel, I did not. Else I had not been back so soon. By the way, how do you feel after your walk, or rather, ride? I had not time to ask you before. Oh, I am very well. I enjoyed it much, but I must take another the day after tomorrow, said the Colonel. Take another ride, for I cannot walk far. Do you intend going far? To the South Sea House, replied the Colonel. To the South Sea House, repeated the tourney to himself as he sipped his tea. He had some of the stock on his hands. Well, I dare say that is likely. People belonging to these companies generally prefer them to any other stock. However, I will follow him there and see if I can't do better. I will tread upon his heels, but what I will find out something this time at all events. Are you acquainted with that stock he inquired after a pause? What, the South Sea stock, inquired the Colonel? Yes. Not much, but I believe it to be good steady stock, a very good investment. It will pay you a better interest than the funds. But is it as secure? Well, that is a very difficult thing to answer, said the Colonel, but I think is safe enough. I have that opinion of it that I do not object to hold it. The best answer one can have to its presumed security. Yes, I have a good opinion of it and do not object holding it, as I said before, and that is the best opinion that can well be offered. Have you any? None, sir, but I have a friend who wanted to purchase stock of some kind or to place money out to advantage and I wish to learn a little more concerning it. I do not mean to say that there is no better, but when you have once invested your money you do not like to change the stock. Certainly not. You are not advisable, said the attorney, unless you have some specific reason for so doing at the best of times. You are the loser by the expenses. Well, said Mrs. Meredith, I am very glad to see you are so well after your journey. Journey, do you call it? Why, ma'am, I cannot call anything less than some few hundred miles a journey. Anything less is a mere bagatelle. Dear me, Colonel, what journeys you must have traveled. Indeed, I have, ma'am. Some of them beautiful and romantic and some of them dreary and some terrible from the obstacles that opposed us and others from the nature of the ground that we had to go over and the dangers attendant from fatigue, climate, and enemy. It must be a terrible thing females in those parts are out of the question. Oh, dear no, there are ladies and English ladies too who live there for years and who follow their husbands, movements with the camp and who undergo all the dangers and fatigues merrily and cheerfully and some of the best of us to the blush for fortitude. While I am glad we have a good character even so far off as India. It cannot but be expected the mothers of such men can bear fatigue and hardship else their sons could never be what they are. However, we have many examples of heroism in India, not of men only but women also. Then there are many interesting points for us to hear explanation about India, said Margaret. Over time, I've followed those who have been there mixed up among the people who live there and who have had much experience with them. I hope we shall have ample time to talk over many such matters, returned to Colonel. For to me it is pleasant to speak of the past and relate all I have seen, known, and taken part in – in a place so distant from us all as our eastern empire. Indeed I love to hear them, said Margaret. I am afraid she will keep you pretty constantly employed in relating ever seen, Colonel, said Mrs. Meredith. She's a strange girl, and has many fancies that way. She's fond of the wild, irregular life that you describe. She would have made an excellent soldier's wife, I am sure. She's so fond of that kind of thing. I hope she will do so now, madam, and that she will have less of the fatigue and danger that fall to the lot of a good many. For I candidly tell you it is one thing to hear these things talked of, and another to bear with them. Plains of burning sand and want of water, less regions covered with snow, and no means to obtain warmth and shelter. These are things exciting enough in a narrative, and yet heartbreaking to experience. Oh, said the Attorney, there can be no doubt it's much better in perspective than it is to experience. I can easily imagine, when you hear of battles and sieges, how they wish they had been there, and how much would have been done by our individual exertions. But dear me, that's as different from being shot in the evening, and so seeing none of the fun that was to follow. Lord bless my heart. Being put out of the way in that manner positively makes me nervous. I do believe. I could be hanged before I marched up to the breach. Fortunately all men are not of that opinion else we might all of us be murdered in our beds and no one to protect us, said Margaret, contemptuously. It is necessary, said the Colonel, that some men should be born for one purpose and some another. Some are poltrones from their birth, and require better men to take care of them, while others win honour and profit on the field of death and danger and snatch triumph from the hands of death. Exactly, said the Attorney, half a loaf is better than no bread, and half a man is better than no man at all, and I believe that many of them leave the field of battle, leave it in a very little better state. Now, I should not care for the life upon such terms. It must be such as is worth living for, and such I do not consider life when one is rendered a cripple all one's life. Well, said the Colonel, we all have our different ideas upon that subject, but I rather think the state would be nothing without the profession of arms, and the lawyers would grace the lamp posts if I might judge from popular opinion. Popular opinion is nothing in this country upon such matters, said Twistle, contemptuously. It amounts to something, retorted the Colonel, and you would say so, I imagine, if you felt it clinging to your throat in the shape of a halter administered by the Canaya. Why, said Mrs. Meredith, I daresay it isn't always expressed so forcibly, and Mr. Twistle does not hold it of any importance, so long as it is not expressed so loudly as that. Certainly Mrs. Meredith, that is my meaning for an illegal act committed by a contemptible portion of the population becomes of importance. So it does, said the Colonel, that is easily verified. But still we may be thankful to those who bravely fight and die, that we may be here in ease and quiet, and free from danger, and able to enjoy our lives and homes in peace. That is true, said the Attorney. The one part of a nation cannot do without another, all are necessary, and produce a powerful kingdom, and not only powerful but rich and intelligent. No doubt of that, said the Colonel. T was now cleared away, and some wine was placed upon the table, and the Colonel took a few glasses of some rare wine, of which he offered the Attorney to drink, and the latter willingly accepted, and found it some of the best he had tasted. And he continued to taste it until he got quite talkative, and to the pain and mortification of Mrs. Meredith, began to talk in a strain that would, in a short time, have done them much discredit and mischief. Mrs. Meredith, however, always full of expedient, soon devised one that had the effect of putting an end to a scene she feared would come to an unpleasant act, if continued in. And therefore, left the room for a few minutes, and then when she returned, she said, Mr. Twistle, you have been sent for. You are wanted immediately. I—I? Sent for? Yes, sir. You are wanted. Nobody knew I was here. Oh, yes, I told my clerk as I came along confound him, just as I was so comfortable to. We can finish this another time, said the Colonel, pointing to the bottle. Yes, thank you. Good night, Colonel Devereux. Good night, Mr. Twistle. Mr. Twistle quitted the drawing-room vowing vengeance to himself against the brute of a clerk of his, who should dare to come and interrupt such an agreeable evening. It was most horribly provoking. He could have called down the vengeance of the universe upon the head of the offending mortal who had come for him, and in this mood of mind he entered the parlor. Where is he? Where is he? Where is who? inquired Mrs. Meredith. My clerk, the man who came for me. Listen, Mr. Twistle, said Mrs. Meredith, I have called you out. No one has been for you, but I had no other means of calling you out as I wanted to speak to you. Well, said Mr. Twistle, half surprised and half vexed. What do you want to say to me now I am here? I want to oppress upon you the fact that the habits of the Colonel lead him to retire about this time, and I feared you not knowing this might stop beyond the proper moment, and so took this method of telling you what I am sure you would like to know. Mr. Twistle could not object. There was something reasonable in it, and yet he was at heart vexed and could not help saying, I should have thought the Colonel would not have been so pleasant and so talkative. If he had not been comfortable he would have said so. Oh, dear no, he would not have done that even if you had remained till daylight. He has too much courtesy towards a stranger to do so. Very well, said Twistle, I will be gone. However, I will take care and not forget the South Sea House the day after tomorrow. You must make the best of it you can, and let me know when he is likely to go, so that I may not lose any chance. Certainly not, I will do as I did before, said the lady. Do so. And I hope you will meet with better luck than you met with before. I hope so too, said the Attorney gravely. However, here I am, and I will do all that I can do for you. Goodbye, Mrs. Meredith. Good day. Good night. Good night, said Mrs. Meredith, and the Attorney left the house to their inexpressible relief, for he was growing very talkative and very troublesome too, for the misfortune was he more than once touched upon forbidden topics. End of Chapter 136. Read by Richard Wallace, Liberty, Missouri, February 10, 2010. Chapter 137 of Varney the Vampire, Volume 3. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Varney the Vampire, Volume 3, by Thomas Prescott Prest. Chapter 137. The difficulties to be encountered in the choice of a bridesmaid. Well, Margaret, said Mrs. Meredith, when they were alone in their own apartment. Well, and how have you got on with the Colonel? Oh, very well indeed, ma. I am glad of it. Has he proposed anything new to you, my dear? Or has he said anything more to you of a particular character? Has he said anything respecting property? That is what we want to know pretty well, and that is the only point that can be more than usually interesting to us. No, ma, nothing about property. I could not expect he would say anything to me, and I hardly expect he would say to any one at all. You see, he is no doubt a rich man. Well, and he would not consider it at all necessary to say anything about it to any one, that it is so peculiarly private and has nothing to do with any one, and he does not imagine that we require anything of the kind. I am sure if the thought entered his mind he would at once satisfy us upon the subject. I cannot speak to him about it, because, having none, I am really not entitled to do so. That is my opinion upon the subject, though Mr. Twistle, I daresay, has a different one to me. Indeed, he genuinely has one of his own. Yes, you may depend upon that, but I have been thinking the matter over, and I am sure he is what he says he is. But what did he say, my dear? Why, he insists that I shall name an early day. Insists, my child, what does he mean? Merely in a good nature, though urgent manner. Indeed, he wishes me to make up my mind and have him at once. If I will consent to have him, he will obtain a special license to solemnize the marriage here in this house, or at church, which I like best. Which shall I consent to, ma? Well, my dear, I think you may as well be married at home. It would be so much more fashionable than going to church. It will be much more trouble, and will hardly seem like a marriage. If it is not done at a church, what do you think? It will make more noise, said Mrs. Meredith, if it is done at home, and yet nobody can say a word about it if it takes place at church. So I think now—so I think—well, what did you decide? I did not decide upon anything, said Margaret. I declined to do so upon the moment, but said I would think about it, and after a few words I promised I would let him know the next time he spoke to me about it, which should not be before tomorrow afternoon. Very well, my dear, a becoming reluctance will never hurt your cause. You have done quite right, and I have no doubt but he will feel more pleased with you than if you had at once consented upon his first asking. So I thought, ma, said Margaret. But you must not carry that too far, or it may defeat its own object. When next he asked you, you must effect a great deal of emotion, trembling and blushing and all that kind of thing, which you can do very well, or if you should distrust yourself you can practice it a bit before a blast. I did it when I was your age, and I did it well. Yes, ma, I can manage all that well enough, but what time shall I name? Well, that must in some measure depend upon the humor you find him in. If he be very pressing you may shorten the period. If he appear distant, lengthen it. But if there is any danger, take him at his word at once and have no delay. It will not do to lose a chance. He must not be allowed to get off in that manner. And you must declare your confusion to be so great that you hardly know what you say. But as he is so very pressing, you will give into his wishes, and you may name any day you like best, and then he is caught, you see. I understand that clearly, but what time would you, as a medium time, give, which I ought to lengthen or shorten as occasion may seem to require. Well, my dear, about a fortnight. Ah, that was on my own tongue, too. Well, then I should not have done wrong in naming three weeks or a month which I felt disposed to say at first. No, no, but you need not make it more than three weeks unless you see any fitting occasion or any necessity for so doing, said Mrs. Meredith. After an amiable counsel the mother and daughter held, having for its object the entanglement and speedy marrying of the unfortunate East Indian Colonel, they both indulged in balmy sleep and slept till morn. The Colonel himself said no more about the object of the previous day's conversation, when the amiable mother left the daughter alone with the Colonel, who appeared as if actuated by clockwork, when the hour of his forbearance had passed he again spoke of the matter. Miss Meredith, he said, my impatience will, I hope, be excused, on the score that my love is ardent, and I have already waited as long as I promised. You know to what I elude. I am afraid I must say I do, Colonel Deverell, said Margaret. But will you not grant me more time to consider this matter over? Remember, it is a serious matter. Of that there is no doubt, said the Colonel, but I do not feel the same doubts you do, for I only feel how much I can do for your happiness and how willingly I will do it. Of that I can have no fear. Then why not consent at once? Consent to have the man who loves you, who dotes upon you, and who will do all that an ample fortune can enable him to do for your welfare and your future prosperity and comfort. Consider all that. I have considered much. I don't know that I need to consider more than my present happiness. The future will take care of itself at all events. We can do no more than to deserve to do well, and to succeed in all our undertakings, to deserve to be happy, and do more you cannot. And who is there that can do as much? We all endeavor to do so. I hope we do, though I am sure there are many who might do better, but to return to my hopes, when will you consent to become mine? Say the day on which I am to be made happy, and if you really love me, make it as short as you can. Margaret appeared to hesitate, and hung her head, trembled, and the blushes mounted her cheek. The colonel caught her in his arms, and pressing her to his bosom he said, Come, come, my own Margaret, say when shall I be made happy? No devourill she sighed as she hid her face. What shall I say? You are so urgent. Shall I say a— A fortnight, and yet that is too—too soon. No. No, not at all. Not at all. Thank you, dear Margaret. Thank you. I—I—I fear I have said too much. Forgive me. Nay, nay, no more about it. I will be content. Tomorrow I will go to the city, and then I will purchase the wedding-ring. I will obtain a license, and then we shall be ready against any contingencies, and on our wedding morning I will have some jewels ready for you. I have given them some orders, but they take a long while in getting ready. Oh, you are too good. Not a bit. Only just, said the colonel, and he appeared as though he were quite satisfied with his conquest, and looked very well pleased with the success he had met with in the prosecution of his suit. It was a settled thing now, and he was, or professed to be, in ecstasies. Mother, said Margaret, as she entered the room, it is all settled at last. I have given my consent, and the day is named. Indeed, I am glad of it. When will the day arrive? What day is it? This day fortnight. This day fortnight. Well, well, that will be a very good time. Very good time indeed. We shall have a very busy time of it, for we must make the most of our arrangements between this and then, for we must get you in a fit out. But if you have a dress to appear in, that is as much as I shall be able to afford, for my means are so short. I know all that, but he has promised me jewels which he has ordered, but which will take some time in making. But he expects them to be ready by our wedding day. Come now. Allow me to be a very handsome provision. Very my dear, very fortunate too, because you see the furniture was becoming somewhat less new and fine than it was. That would have compelled me to lessen my terms, so we should have gone gradually back and perhaps been obliged to seek some other mode of living. But you have some money by you? That was reserved in case of extreme misfortunes, and I cannot realize that immediately. However, it would only put off the evil day. But we are saved that now. We have caught a rare good fish. We have only to land him, that is, get some little to be done before we can pull him ashore. We must keep up the farce, but I tell you, we must not be guided by Mr. Twistle, though he is of great use. No, ma, we must not. I have thought on that. And yet I do not like to give up the idea of finding out first what he may have in the shape of property, though I am sure it would do no good. Yet, to have one's curiosity satisfied is something gained. Still, I am not so curious that I must be satisfied at the expense of our prospects. No, ma, I am sure I want badly enough to know all about it, but I will restrain my curiosity until I find out my means and at a time when no offense can be taken, or if it be, why it's of no consequence, and I don't care anything about it. Because I shall have a right to speak for myself. Certainly, my dear, that is a very proper spirit, a very proper spirit indeed. But then he won't interfere with you much, except it is to want you to always be at his elbow. I won't mind that, because you see, he may make a will, but I'll take pretty good care that nobody comes in between him and me. Exactly, you have no relatives on his side to tease you, or give you any trouble. Therefore you have all plain sailing before you. I have, and now I suppose, it will not be too much to speak to one's bridesmaids. Ah, my dear, said Mrs. Meredith, with a shake of the head. What's the matter, ma? Ah, my dear, there is the difficulty. You know how easy the Colonel has fallen in love with you. How sudden that has all come about, and how short a time the courtship has continued. So much the better, ma? Certainly, my love, but it should make you cautious. Very cautious, how you act with bridesmaids. Because you don't know what may happen with such old people as the Colonel. They are dreadful, sometimes, and you don't know what they will do. They will fall in love with anybody. It is quite shocking to think of it. But it don't so much matter, only you see he may take a violent fancy to someone, and then you may lose by the whole affair. How so, ma? Why, I suppose he takes a fancy to one of the bridesmaids. You don't know what may pass between them. Certainly not. Very well, then he may make a will to reward her, as he would call it, and then you would lose so much, which is clear robbery, as I call it. So it would be, ma, and yet. After all said and done, I cannot tell what else we are to do. Some female friends we must have, and the only precaution we can take will be to get someone as ugly as I can, and then keep her away as much as possible. The latter is the only effectual method, for ugliness is not always a safeguard. For men have got such tastes, and what we think extremely plain, they, by a perversity of taste, will persist in believing to be interesting, at least, if not pretty. I have known so many instances. Besides, I do know that even ugliness itself is no safeguard. Indeed, ma? No, I had an instance of that, I may say, too, even with your father, who took a fancy to two of the servants, one after the other. I am sure there was nothing in the hussies to attract any attention, but then men will be men, and you can't help it. We must get rid of them. Yes, that is all you can do, but whom did you think of having? There are the two Miss Stewards. They are called Pretty. I heard a gentleman say so, at the last party we went to. So that, I think, decidedly bad policy. I know the men's taste very well, my dear, but it is different to what we call taste. I don't know why, but it is so. Well, ma, if the Mrs. Steward won't do, what do you say to the Mrs. Brown? They are anything but even passable. Besides, they are pitted with a smallpox, and very light hair, almost charity. They are anything but fascinating. That may be all very true, my dear, but you know the Mrs. Brown Sing. They are called Good Figures, and dashing young women, and they are very bold, which might tempt many people, especially when they are looking about for sweethearts. Yes, that is very true. Then there are the Mrs. Smith. They are very young, much too young to be at all likely to cause men to have any fancy for them. They are, my dear, innocent girl. You are entirely wrong, most entirely wrong. Indeed, ma? Yes, my dear, you are innocent itself, because you have been brought up at home. But look here. Men are the nastiest creatures alive. While some of them would fall in love with a girl 16 or 17 years old, I, more than that, I have seen some of them married at that age. Ah, I am shocked, said Margaret, as she lifted up her hands in amazement at this description of the vices of men. Ah, well, they may say at church, and there is no good in us. Indeed, my dear, you are quite right, and so is the prayer-book. But it is as I tell you. Besides, men never forget these things. They will remember faces they have seen for a year or two, and then they will begin their games. Dear me, ma, what shall I do? That is the difficulty, my dear. I would not have unfolded this book of vices before you had it not been necessary for your happiness. O fiddle-de-de, ma, it's the money that I care for. It ain't the carnal, poor old cripple. He may do as he pleases, as long as I get the gold. Well, my dear, said the careful mother, who felt the sedative effects of this speech. Well, my dear, but you know they do waste their means in these affairs, and that most outrageously sometimes to cause a ruinous effect upon their home. Oh, but he's too much of an invalid. Do you know, Margaret, I think the carnal is more of an invalid from habit than reality. Sometimes when nobody's looking, he can walk and use both feet alike, and even use his left hand without any trouble at all. Do you really think so? Yes, but I don't mean to say it is all sham. Oh, dear no, but long habit and the laziness of these rich Indians is so great that there is no knowing its extent. I don't believe they would eat if it wasn't for their being hungry. What is to be done? I will tell you, my dear. I have Miss Twistle and her friend. Miss Twistle and Martha Briggs exclaimed to Miss Meredith with a giggle. What a fright! So much the better, my dear, so much the better. It is just what you want, the very thing above all others. Have a fool and a fright, and you can drop their acquaintance whenever you like. And I think there can be no danger of the carnal's falling in love with them, at least, added Mrs. Meredith with emphasis, at least, upon such an occasion. Very well, ma, let it be Miss Twistle and Martha Briggs. Goodness me, how I shall be attended upon this occasion. It will be quite laughable. I mustn't let the carnal see them before the morning arrives, else he will be sure to laugh at them. Ha, ha, ha! Laughed both mother and daughter at the idea of the two frights, as they called them, being bridesmaids, and in high good humor they both retired to rest for the night, to dream of the forthcoming occasion. End of Chapter 137 of Varney the Vampire, Volume 3, read by Richard Wallace, Liberty, Missouri, 13 February 2010. Chapter 138 of Varney the Vampire, Volume 3 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Read by Carolyn Power. Varney the Vampire, Volume 3, by Thomas Prescott Prest. Chapter 138 Mr. Twistle's misfortunes and his resolution never to give in. The next day, after that on which the conversation respecting the choice of a bridesmaid took place, was the day on which the Colonel was to visit the South Sea House. Early that morning he ordered a coach to be in attendance and left the house, saying that he would be back in time for tea, that he had to make several purchases and transact some necessary business that would occupy him until that time. He kissed Margaret and whispered in her ear that he should call and see about the jewels and urge the jeweler to get them ready. These people are so diligently, he said, that unless I worry them, they will disappoint me of them and I would not be without them on the occasion of our marriage for a trifle. We must not set our happiness upon such things, said Margaret. What self-denial you can exert, said the Colonel playfully. No, my happiness is not fixed upon such objects as those, and therefore it is no trouble to renounce them when it is necessary to do so. I hope there will be no need. I believe there will be none. But goodbye till tea time, then we shall pass a pleasant evening together. The Colonel left the house, and no sooner had he done so, then Mrs. Meredith wrote a short note to Mr. Twizzle, informing him of the Colonel's departure at a much earlier hour than she had anticipated. Here, Mary, she said to the drudge, Yes, ma'am, replied the domestic, just run as fast as you can to Mr. Twizzle with this note, and don't let the grass grow under your feet, do you hear? Yes, ma'am. Away went the drudge as fast as she could to the man of law, and arrived there out of breath. And having gone there fast, according to orders, she thought herself at liberty to take her own time in going back, which she performed to perfection. Mr. Twizzle cursed himself for this unexpected departure, but there was no time for deliberation. He crushed on his hat, took a coach, and drove as hard as a mysteriously kept up cattle could carry it, and was fortunate enough to see the Colonel go by in another. He jumped out, paid the jerry, and then made a rush after the Colonel, whom he saw going up the steps. Determined that he would not be outdone this time, he rushed through a crowd of men who were near at hand, and jostled them so that they gave him more oaths than was consistent with courtesy, and one of them desired to know if he were running after himself or anybody else. Heedless of this, he pushed on, and trod upon a bricklayer's foot so hard that the man gave a great shout, and by way of retaliation brought his heavy hand down so hard upon the attorney's hat that the article of wearing a pearl was forced below his chin, much to the detriment of his vision, which was totally eclipsed. In an instant he was struggling with his hat, and yet was unable to release himself from the endurance in which his head was held. But he found this was not all he had to contend with, for he felt himself pushed and hustled about in a strange manner, till he was thrown on a doorstep, and then he was suddenly left to himself with no soul near him. Upon my word, this must be done on purpose I do verily believe, said Mr. Twizzle, as he at length succeeded in wrenching his hat off his head after many violent efforts, but even then it was at the expense of the lining and skin of his nose, which was a very disagreeable affair after all. Mr. Twizzle, for a moment or two, stared around him, and wondered where he was until, at length upon some examination, he found himself round the corner. Oh, I must have got hustled round the corner. Yes, yes, I see how it is. It's a downright conspiracy of theirs. There can't be two minds. But then again he thought what conspiracy could there be necessary to marry a girl without money? If she had money he could have understood it, but not as a matter stood, that was quite impossible. It was an impenetrable mystery. As these thoughts passed through his mind, he was sitting on the step of a door, and, seeing the blood trickle off his nose and vermilion drops upon the pavement, he fell for his handkerchief to wipe the injured feature and stopped the bleeding. But, alas, it was not in this pocket, nor in that. It was not in his hat. He never carried it there. If he had, his head would never have reached the crown of his hat. That was quite certain. It would have been better had he done so. But, as it was not about him, where could it be? He knew that he had had it before he left home on this errand. The truth, however, was not long before it came across his mind like a flash of light. He had got among a gang of London thieves who had hustled and robbed him of his handkerchief. This was suggestive of other matters, and he, in consequence, put his hand to his watch-fab, but also, that was gone, too. He gasped, felt his breeches pocket, and then he sank back, for he found his garments had been slit open by some sharp instrument, and his purse had fled. Damm said the attorney in a fury, but this subsided in a moment. The loss he had felt, and the pushing about he had experienced, was too much. He felt weakened and disheartened, and paused to think upon what he should do, and which way he should go. It's no use giving in, he muttered, no use at all. I must go on, and yet I had better go and see if the coach is gone, for if it is still there, and it can't have got away yet, I'll yet go in and see if I can find him. He walked round the corner, much shaken with what he had received in the way of knocks and kicks, but when he did get round, he saw the coach was gone. There was, however, a ticket-porter at hand, and he determined to go and ask him a few questions. My friend, he said, feeling in his pocket, do you know a Colonel Devereux? No, said the man, never heard of him. Where does he live? He came in here just now. Oh, did he, replied the man, kicking a piece of orange peel off the pavement? I don't know him. Do you recollect a Hackney coach coming up to the door just now with a lame gentleman who got out? Yes, with a green shade over his eye. Yes, that was the man. Oh, well, I never seen him before. I don't know him. He didn't stop a minute. Oh, said Mr. Twistle, then he turned away and walked towards his own house. However, he felt in his pocket for some money. A small sum in silver was loose in his pockets, and this he had saved, and he determined to treat himself to some brandy and water, for he was really much knocked about and terrified and nervous. So he went into the first public house he came to. This was a low house, the parlour of which was situated a long way back. And he walked in and threw himself into a seat. Well, well, here I am. This is disaster the second. Well, who would have believed I should have met with such misadventures as those I have just gone through? There's a fate in it. I'm sure this is an unlucky business altogether. Of that I am certain. I got into the watch house on the first occasion, but now I am worse than that. I have been knocked about and robbed of money and goods. 15 pounds in my purse confound Colonel Deverell, I say. What would you take, sir? Eh, inquired the bewildered attorney who forgot that he had entered a public house and the waiter was desiring to know what he wished to have. What will you like to take, sir? Inquired the waiter again. A glass of brandy and water and a biscuit. The man left the room and Twistle retired within himself to contemplate the evils he had suffered and those he was likely to endure. Well, I never thought I was in such a thing as this. Who would ever have believed it? None, I am sure. No one would, confound them. I'll give it up as a bad job and a bad job it has been for me, I am quite confident of that. Brandy and water and a biscuit, said the waiter, laying down the articles enumerated and Twistle gave the necessary cash, accompanied by the customary gratuity, which ranges from 10 to 25% upon the money paid for the articles purchased. We have often thought this a most exorbitant tax upon those who require accommodation. If people cannot pay their own servants, they ought not to keep them. To be sure, you are told you need not pay anything. It is entirely voluntary and that they do not wish it. But you only obtain a flippant answer, so as to attract everyone's eyes in the place. And the end of it is, if there is much business, you don't get any attention at all. Well, I won't give in, said Mr Twistle, with a thump on the table, but he had drank nearly two-thirds of the brandy of water. No, I won't give in. He swallowed down the remainder, finished the biscuit, and leaned back in his seat. And then he began to talk to himself. I will not give in. After all that has passed, it would be a shame to be done, robbed, beaten, and kicked, and then give in. Nonsense. I will go through the whole affair, and that shall repay me in the end. I'll lay it on the thicker for this. This was a comfortable resolution on the part of Mr Twistle, and which appeared to please him well, for he smiled quietly, and then rose much refreshed and left the house. This last illusion of Twistle's was consolatory, and had an intimate connection with certain imaginary charges he would make to the Deverell family when he got the business. But as that was a matter buried in the womb of security, we will not follow him in his speculations. I won't give in. He said, as he walked on and thrust his hand into the slit that had been cut in his trousers to extract his purse, but this only confirmed him in his resolution. And he uttered again and again, I won't give in. I won't give in, he murmured, as he sawed the knocker of Mrs Meredith's door. I won't give in. I'm not a man whose resolution is easily shaken. Oh, dear no. I'll tell my good friend, Mrs Meredith, all my troubles, and then ask her what she thinks of me, if I ain't an indefatigable friend, one who will never sink under difficulties. End of Chapter 138 of Varni the Vampire Volume 3.